


Second Base

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-28
Updated: 2008-09-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 22:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14798816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: And you know what I mean by second base.





	Second Base

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: Alternative universe, total fantasy (or is it?)

 

 

 

Spoilers through end of series; possible spoilers for “Holding Hands on the Way Down”

 

 

 

Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul

 

 

 

Feedback and criticism always welcomed  


* * *

**Saturday, April 22, 2017, Kensington, CA; 5:30 PM (Present Day)**

"CJ, I think they're here. I heard a car slow down and then stop outside."

"Good," CJ said, joining Paul in the foyer. Just as the doorbell rang, she reached up to smooth an errant hair in her husband's mustache.

Paul opened the door and they greeted the couple that CJ had not seen in more than twenty years and Paul in more than thirty.

"Alex! Luke! You guys look wonderful. Come in, come in."

The two couples exchanged hugs.

"CJ, Paul, these are our twins. Rick's the blonde and Ron's the redhead. Guys, this is Dr. and Mrs. Reeves."

Alexandra Davidson, née Lockwood, had been CJ's roommate during their undergraduate years at Berkeley. Luke Davidson was president of Berkeley's chapter of the fraternity which Paul had joined at Dartmouth and with which he had continued his association when he studied at Boalt Hall. Early in the second year of their relationship, CJ and Paul had fixed up the two of them and while CJ and Paul's relationship had undergone a long interruption, for Alex and Luke, it was love at first sight and they had never looked back.

After graduation, Luke got his DVM/PhD (specializing in Bio-medical research) from the School of Veterinary Medicine at Penn. He and Alex were married right after her (and CJ's) graduation; CJ was Alex's maid of honor. Alex joined him in Philadelphia and got an MSW.

CJ and Alex had exchanged letters while Luke did research and eventually taught at Penn. As their lives progressed, the contact became more sporadic, eventually declining to an annual Christmas card exchange, birthday cards, and maybe two phone calls a year. By the time CJ had left the White House and had found Danny, Luke had resigned from Penn and was working with the Canadian branch of Veterinarians without Borders. He, Alex, and their youngest kids went to South America, where Luke worked with farm animals. Alex and CJ lost touch.

For the last four years, the Davidsons had been living in the small Oregon town of Agness, on the Rogue River.

Then Alex saw the obituary announcement about Ben in the alumni magazine. CJ's name and position at the university were mentioned in connection with a memorial fund and Alex decided to get back in touch with the woman and man who were responsible for her and Luke finding each other.

Rick was being pursued by the tennis teams at Stanford and Cal, so the Davidson's were coming down for campus visits on the Thursday and Friday after Easter. Would CJ and Paul be able to work Alex, Luke, and the boys into their schedule?

The response was an invitation to dinner on Easter Saturday.

The conversation between the two couples mixed memories of their time at Cal and sharing what had happened in their lives since they were in their early twenties. Alex brought out pictures of their three other children. Kirk, the eldest, was a lawyer married to a police detective and had two kids of his own. Jeff was a systems analyst at Ole Miss. Hayley was in her last year at West Point. Luke talked about his varied career paths, from professor/researcher to field work to being an all-around vet in a town so small it made Albion look like a metropolis. ("You learn the difference between need' and want' real fast," Alex joked. "The things I've used to make casseroles in a pinch, well, I've become very inventive.")

Of course, Paddy, Caitlin, and Dansha were brought out for introductions and inspection.

"Deborah is up in Alaska with her husband Tom. We'll all be going to New York the end of next month when she gets her PhD from Columbia, just two weeks after CJ gets hers here. No grandkids as yet," Paul told Luke and Alex. "It's a shame you'll miss meeting Derrick. He'll be coming up for a Hollis Foundation conference that starts on Monday and will be here tomorrow afternoon. Normally, he'd come up on Friday night but he had to escort a friend of his, she's on the faculty at Cal Poly, to a banquet tonight."

At one point, when Luke and Paul were having high-level discussions about the steaks on the grill, CJ and Alex were in the living room. Alex picked up one of the pictures on the credenza.

"CJ, you look so happy in this shot." It was the one of her and Danny taken on the Sunday morning after their wedding. "And he looks to be so utterly in love with you. I was so happy when you wrote me about Danny. I always felt so sorry for you, all those years. I mean, I know you were working high-powered jobs, especially with Bartlet, and I knew that a lot of the guys you dated were good ones, but I always wanted you to have what I had with Luke, felt bad that you didn't, especially since you made what I have possible. Then, the twins – I was so happy and then when you lost them – and Paddy. The Nobel was just the cherry on top of everything. You were finally having everything you deserved.

"When I read about Danny I was devastated for you. I started to write letter after letter, but I felt so guilty about my life, I couldn't bring myself to finish and mail them. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, if only because I would have known that you and Paul had found each other again long before I read about Ben.

"And now I see you and Paul together, with Dansha, and I'm filled with a sense of completeness for you. I know that losing Danny hurt, I know that Paul losing Alicia hurt, but I'm so glad that the two of you are together again. You were perfect for each other and you still are."

Then Ron came into the room.

"Dad and Dr. Reeves say that everything's ready."

_Danny reacted to the sniff from the woman beside him by putting an arm around her and a finger under her chin._

" _Remember, Alicia, she didn't know you at all, and only knew me through the press briefings. All she knows is how happy CJ and Paul were way back then and she's glad that they have that happiness again. She wasn't dismissing your years with Paul or mine with CJ, not really. Why don't we take the kids tubing down Braveras?"_

" _You're a good man, Danny Concannon."_

The two high school juniors ("Totally unplanned, six years younger than Hayley, but a total joy," Luke confided to Paul) were comfortable with the adults and yet not condescending to the kids. When asked, Ron explained that no, he really had no interest in tennis. He played soccer, but not on the level that Rick played tennis. "So next fall, I may be making some college trips, but I doubt they'll be recruiting ones, unless it's a school without a strong program. I'm more interested in mid-West and New England schools – Centre in Kentucky, Allegheny in Pennsylvania, Tufts in Massachusetts, maybe Bates in Maine."

Finally, at ten, Luke and Alex said they needed to leave. They had a seven hour drive to Gold Beach, where the boys attended high school (and stayed overnight three nights a week).

"It's a shame we didn't know about you guys while Derrick was in Seattle," Paul said. "But now that we know where you are, especially with our place in Albion, we definitely can't be strangers anymore."

"And if Rick does come here or Palo Alto - " Luke left the sentence unfinished.

**Sunday -- late afternoon**

Derrick had arrived from San Luis Obispo and was seated in the kitchen with his parents. Paddy had been given the task of distributing the cookies "from Miss Natasha" equally among his two sisters, who were playing with their Barbies in the family room, and himself.

"Papa, I'll never understand girls."

Paddy came back into the kitchen.

Paul and Derrick laughed.

"Paddy, take it from your big brother, that's the normal situation."

"And we women intend to keep it that way," CJ said under her breath.

"What do you mean, Paddy," Paul asked. "What don't you understand? Did Caitlin or Dansha say or do something?"

"Why would someone not want to get a run? Isn't that the purpose?"

"Are we talking about baseball?"

"I guess. Remember last night, you and Mama and Dr. and Mrs. Davidson were still at the table and you excused me and Rick and Ron? Well, when we were watching TV, Ron asked Rick about some girl and Rick said she was okay and fun but she wanted to stay at second base. When I asked them why she didn't want to go home, they just looked at each other, laughed, and said I wouldn't understand. And they're right; I don't."

Derrick started to laugh and quickly suppressed it.

Paul and CJ looked at each other and smiled. They both knew what the other was remembering.

**October, early 1980's – Week 1 – Sunday afternoon 12:30 PM**

"CJ," the helpful, disembodied voice came over the intercom, "Paul's here."

CJ pressed the speaker button. "Thanks, Gidget, I'll be right down."

CJ giggled as she gathered up her books and her rain slicker, and headed down to the dormitory lobby. Granted, Claudia was not the least ridiculous of names, but at least **her** parents didn't name her for a movie character. And, she was lucky enough to have not only a middle name but also a confirmation name she was able to choose for herself. Gidget Monroe's parents didn't give her anything else she could use and Gidget wasn't Catholic ("although it might be worth converting to get another name.")

"Hey, there."

CJ could see Paul's face light up as she walked toward him and she returned his smile as he reached for her books and jacket. But instead of leading her toward the front door of the dorm, Paul steered her toward the corner between the entrance and the doorway to the lounge.

CJ was a bit confused. If they wanted to get one of the good tables in the law library, the ones with padded chairs, they needed to get there soon.

Thunder clapped and she could hear the sound of the rain that had been threatening all day.

"CJ, it's going to be a nasty, dreary day and I was wondering if you'd like to come back to the apartment with me and study there. It would be warmer; Larry and I have a fireplace. I make a pretty good spaghetti sauce, even if I do say so myself (Paul and CJ usually ate supper together on Sunday in the student dining hall. It was usually the best meal of the week – roast beef or broiled chicken – and very reasonably priced.) and, uh, I guess it's maybe not something you want to do?" Paul's voice trailed off as he noticed that CJ was looking somewhat uncomfortable.

CJ blushed, looked down at her feet, looked up at Paul, and then focused on his chest. This was something she and Alex, her roommate, had discussed between themselves and with other girls in the dorm.

"I'm not sure what you want, I mean, I've talked with the other girls, and I have brothers, you know, and they always told me to stand my ground, to not be pressured into anything, but to also be upfront and honest, to not lead on, be a tease, and the girls, some say that you need to be careful, not to give signals like ordering the lobster unless you intend to be, well, friendly, and when a guy asks you to his apartment, know what you're getting into, and I have done some things, I've been to second base and you've been a perfect gentleman and if you wanted to go there, I wouldn't mind, heck, I might even want to go to third, but I'm not ready for home plate and I want to be upright and honest like Mitch and Randy said, and I don't know "

"CJ"

"exactly what you want and"

"CJ, I"

"maybe I'm just making a fool of myself and – OH!"

"CJ?" Paul dropped his hand from where he had touched her just above her waistline.

"I guess I'm a bit ticklish there."

Paul reached for CJ's chin and raised her face so that he could look into her eyes.

"CJ. You are a very attractive and very desirable woman and I can't tell you how happy I've been being with you these past five or six weeks. There is nothing I would want more than to take our relationship to an intimate place IF AND WHEN YOU FEEL THE SAME WAY AND ARE READY FOR THAT MOVE. Until that time, I will wait as patiently as I can, respecting whatever limits you put on our relationship. You call the shots, CJ.

"Stipulating that, I would still like you to come to my place. As I said, we can study, I can cook, and, based on what you said two minutes ago, maybe hit a few doubles?" he smiled and lightly laughed.

Nodding her head up and down, CJ smiled back at him.

So Paul helped her with her raincoat, picked up her books, and led her to the door.

**4:45 PM**

CJ looked up from her Sociology text and stretched. For four hours, she and Paul had been sitting at this dining table, their books and papers spread out, occasionally playing footsie with each other. The rain had diminished to a shower, but the day was still dreary, and the warmth of the fire made for a much nicer atmosphere than the law library.

But she had been sitting there for four hours.

"Uh, Paul, I need to," she said somewhat uncertainly.

"Through the doorway, turn to your right. It's the first door on the left."

When Paul opened the door to the apartment earlier in the day, they entered an open area. There was a living room with a dining area. The kitchen was separated from that space by a waist high counter. A doorway obviously led to the bedrooms and bathroom. (But Paul didn't offer a tour.) It was a typical college town apartment, except for the fireplace. (CJ later found out that there was no central heat. Paul and Larry each had a space heater and a window air-conditioner in their bedrooms.)

As she walked to the bathroom, CJ could see, through an open bedroom door at the end of the hall, a bureau with a picture of a very pretty girl and a guy she recognized as Paul's roommate Larry.

As CJ left the bathroom to return to the living room, it was obvious that the door at the other end of the hall led to Paul's room. However, nothing was visible from the angle she had and she was not about to explore.

Walking back into the main room, she noticed that Paul was no longer at the table. A sound drew her eyes to the left, where she saw him sitting in an overstuffed chair, his feet up on an ottoman.

Paul extended his hand to her; his smile said "come here." At the time, CJ had no idea that it was the first of many times that he would silently bid her to come to him and that she would come to be very happy to see that smile and that gesture.

CJ walked to the man and let herself be pulled onto his lap, albeit somewhat apprehensively. Whenever guys had done this in the past, she felt awkward because she was so tall.

But with Paul, the combination of his height, the breadth of his shoulders, and the particular ratio of his upper body to that part from the waist down meant that she did not tower over him. Her head was on a level with his and she felt more feminine than she had ever felt with a guy.

Paul's left arm came around her shoulder as his right hand held the back of her head. His lips undulated against hers. As the kiss intensified, his left hand replaced his right. Paul's right arm caressed her back, his hand making circles down her spine.

Paul's mouth moved from hers to the side of her jaw. His right hand came across her hip, the base of his thumb mere inches from where her legs came together.

CJ was a bit concerned. Did Paul have a different definition of second base? She felt better with Paul than she had ever felt with any other guy, but she wasn't ready to have him reach down there, even outside her clothing.

But Paul's hand moved from her hip and rested on her butt as his mouth returned to hers and continued his undulating kisses, his tongue making slight forays into her mouth, teasing the tip of hers.

The hand that was on her butt moved up her back and crossed to her stomach. It slipped up to the neckline of her vee-necked sweater and traced the edges from shoulder to shoulder. Then Paul gently cupped the side of her left breast, his thumb tracing back and forth across the upper inner quadrant. Slowly, his fingers rotated clockwise to the lower half, his thumb following to the upper outer quadrant.

All the while, their mouths stayed entwined.

Eventually, Paul's hand moved between her breasts.

Then, Paul broke their kiss and leaned back so he could look into CJ's eyes, reading them for any silent "stop." His hand slipped under the neck of her sweater and reached up to slip the bra strap from her left shoulder. Seeing the consent in her eyes, his fingers slipped under her bra and grazed against the nipple. His mouth returned to hers, his tongue once more entangled with hers.

CJ relaxed back against Paul's left arm and reveled in the sensations being raised in her body. As she had said, this was not new territory for her. She had previously experienced the tingling feeling in her nipples, had experienced the connection between Paul's hand on her breast and the pulsing between her legs. But she had never felt so comfortable, so relaxed, and so secure, with what was happening. Paul's strength surrounding her, the scent of his aftershave filling her nostrils, and the wet warmth of his mouth undulating on hers all combined to give her a sense of being cherished, desired, and protected. The sensual security was a new thing.

Paul's hand pulled away from her breast and her body reacted, almost moving toward his palm. That hand moved down to her waist, around to her back, and underneath her sweater. Once again, his face pulled away from hers as his hand came up her back and under the back of her bra. Once again, his eyes looked for consent and once again, her eyes gave it.

It was a first for CJ. Others had unhooked her bra, but not like this. Paul was the first to expertly do it behind her back, with only one hand.

CJ began to experience some apprehension - not because of what he was doing but because she hadn't expected to be doing this when she dressed this morning. Her bra was a plain cotton one, rather old. The elastic in the straps had begun to yellow. And she was probably two days' overdue in shaving her underarms. What if Paul started to remove her sweater? Well, he did say she would set the limits; for today, at least, her things would stay on her body.

For a few minutes, Paul's hands stayed on her back, one beneath the sweater, one on top. Then the one under the sweater began its slow journey to the front of her body. Her arms clutched around Paul's neck, CJ moved slightly away from his chest in order to give him better access. Paul hand fully cupped the breast and began to massage its fullness.

And then the phone rang.

CJ pulled away, startled by the jarring jangle on the table next to them.

Paul muttered something under his breath, removed his hand from CJ's body, and answered the call. However, he held onto CJ when she made a move to get up from his knees.

It was Larry's fiancée, calling from New Hampshire.

"I'm sorry, Rosemary, Larry's out on Angel Island helping with some native, pre-Spanish sites."

Rosemary was calling to let Larry know that she got her GRE scores – 730 across the board. Her chances of being accepted into Berkeley's graduate program for Linguistics were greatly improved.

Paul congratulated her, said that of course he would relay the message, asked her about the weather in New England, and ended the conversation.

CJ and Paul exchanged a few more kisses.

"I think I should start cooking supper."

**Week 2 – Sunday afternoon – 4:30 PM**

"CJ?"

Paul was sitting on one of the dining table chairs, with CJ straddling his thighs, facing him.

"Hmm?"

Her arms looped around Paul's neck, CJ kissed him lightly.

"Your blouse buttons all the way down."

"Yeah?"

"Does that mean it **unbuttons** all the way down?"

CJ smiled as her hand moved to the top button of her top. Paul's hand stopped her.

"Some day, some time in the future, I'll want to you undress for me. But for now - " Paul kissed her forehead, then her nose, and then her mouth as his fingers worked their way down the front of the blouse.

The last button undone, Paul spread apart the two sides of the garment and smiled. CJ was wearing a lacy pink bra that hooked in the front. For a moment, Paul wondered if she were wearing matching panties. Then he decided that unless he was misreading the situation completely, today was not the time to find out.

He looked up at her face. CJ was blushing, her face almost the same shade as the frilly garment that enclosed her breasts. Chuckling, Paul slipped his hands up CJ's back and gently grasped her shoulders. He began with light kisses on her mouth, then down to her chin and the length of her neck. His lips made their way over to her left shoulder and he began to trace the outline of the bra, periodically inserting the tip of his tongue between the lacy edge and her skin.

By the time Paul reached her right shoulder, she was panting and squirming in his lap. His left hand left that shoulder and turned at a right angle to support her back as his right hand came down her back, around her stomach, and up to the clasp that was quickly opened.

Clenching his hand into a fist, Paul lightly circled her breasts, first one then the other. With the third joint of his index finger, he brushed across each nipple once, then returned to the tracing the broader fleshy orbs.

Finally, Paul cupped her left breast and kissed it. With a sigh, he lifted his head and, pulling the two sides of her blouse together, began to rebutton the garment.

"Paul?"

Sensing her confusion, Paul kissed her forehead and told her that if he was going to keep his promise to not push her, he had to know his limits.

"And right now, I'm at that limit. Listen, would you like Chinese food tonight?"

Smiling, CJ agreed to his choice, slipped off his lap and headed toward the bathroom. Fastening her bra, she looked at herself. There were faint traces of darker rose where his fingers had held her. One or two little flecks of saliva from his kisses glistened when the light hit them. As she flushed in memory of how good he had made her feel, she could feel the moisture that seeped from inside her to the lacy pink underwear that matched the bra she had bought last Tuesday. She wondered if she could work up the courage to tell him that he could go for a triple.

When CJ returned to the living room, Larry was there. He would be joining them for supper. CJ was a bit relieved that she didn't have to make the announcement about the next base just yet.

**Week Two – Tuesday 12:30 PM**

"I'm sorry I'm late," CJ said as she sat down at the table in the Student Union where Paul was eating a grilled cheese sandwich and studying.

"No problem, doll," Paul said as he closed his textbook. Looking up at her, he started to smile and then stopped.

"What are you doing in a Cornell sweatshirt?"

She glanced down at the red fleece that was about three sizes too big for her.

"It's one of Mitch's. This cold snap is really unusual for us, this time of year. Watch my stuff while I go get a sandwich and a coke."

"I'll go get them. You sit. What would you like?"

**Week Two – Thursday 5:15** **PM**

CJ walked into her room, set down her books on her desk, and, taking the shopping bag she was also carrying, lay down on her bed. Smiling to herself, she relived her "coffee break" with Paul two hours ago.

This time, CJ arrived first and snared a table next to the window. She was deep into her library reserve reading, making notes on the material she would have to return first thing tomorrow morning. She heard something hit the table a second before the shadow came over it.

"Hi," Paul smiled as he sat across from her. He handed her a bag. "Here."

"What's this?"

"If you're going to wear an Ivy League sweatshirt, it's going to be Dartmouth. If you're going to wear a man's sweatshirt, it's going to be mine."

Looking back, she realized that although his voice was soft and his tone light, there was also firmness and a confidence that his wishes would be followed. There was also just the teensiest bit of _machismo_ that she somewhat guiltily found exciting.

Her inner feminist might bristle at being told what to do and what to wear, but her inner woman could not deny that it felt good to be claimed by this man.

CJ opened the bag. The shirt was obviously not new, but was in good shape. As she unfolded it, an olio of scents – laundry soap, his cologne, and that indefinable **him** – came at her. She smiled again as she knew exactly when and how she would wear it.

**Week Three – Sunday – 1:15 PM**

Paul jumped in his skin as he opened the door to the apartment and ushered CJ inside. The teakettle was whistling. Did Larry leave it on before he left for the library? What if he and CJ hadn't come back to the place?

Just then, his roommate came appeared in the doorway from the hall.

"I was halfway out the door when it hit me," Larry said between coughs. "My throat was sore when I went to bed last night and I woke up hacking, but I thought I could manage. And I would have left, except for the upchucking. I'm sorry, man." Larry sent Paul a look that said he knew that he was wrecking Paul's afternoon.

By this time, CJ's submerged nesting instincts had risen to the surface. She reached for Larry's forehead.

"My, God, you're burning up! Go get into bed; I'll make the tea for you. Paul, help him."

Five minutes later, Paul returned from taking the tea to Larry.

"You're sweet to help him, doll," he said, coming up to CJ and taking her in his arms.

As he pulled her against him in a kiss, he realized that she felt softer than usual. His hands strayed across her back and felt nothing other than the back of the sweatshirt he had given her three days ago. Paul groaned to himself as he realized that she had come to him braless. Yes, they could still engage in touching, but with Larry sick in the next room -- .

Last week, when he and CJ were, for lack of a better word, making out, at one point she reached to slip her hands under his rugby jersey. He had pulled her hands away, explaining that if he was going to keep his promise and not push her beyond wherever she set the boundaries, he could not let her touch him nearly as intimately as he was touching her. At CJ's response that she didn't want to be a tease, that she felt she was getting the "better end of the deal", Paul assured her that right now, that was no problem. ("It's all about your being comfortable with me, with the idea of me, it's about making you secure enough to want to move this to the next level. I can wait for a while.")

And it was obvious from her squirming on his lap last week that she was ready for more intimate contact. Paul wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Yes, it would be one step closer, but Paul wasn't sure that he could stop at that one further step. To carry out the analogy, Paul was afraid he would want to round third and head for home.

Five hours later, Paul put away the leftover chili that had been their supper.

"I guess I better get back to the dorm – ouch!!"

"CJ?"

I guess I got some skin caught in a fold in my jeans. It pinched."

"Well, if you were in looser pants like me, you might be more comfortable," Paul laughed. He was wearing sweats.

"I thought you said you liked seeing my butt in these jeans," CJ replied, walking toward him.

"That I do, but my shirt covers that, so I can't enjoy the view of your gorgeous backside."

Paul loosely put his arms around CJ's waist, preparing to pull her closer for a kiss. They had spent some time after studying and before eating the chili on the easy chair, but the thought of Larry coming out at any moment kept their closer contact to a minimum.

"Well, these pants don't exactly make it easy for me to enjoy the view of yours," CJ answered, running her hand across the width of his ass.

The effect was electric and his reaction was instantaneous.

Paul turned her round and pushed her back against the wall. His mouth ground against hers, hard, his tongue pushing into her and demanding to wrestle with hers. A knee came between her legs and lifted against her. Then Paul's hands reached down to CJ's hips and he lifted her up along the wall, about five inches, until her groin was positioned against his the way God intended.

CJ wrapped her arms around Paul's neck and moaned into his mouth. As his body moved against hers, her legs lifted and wrapped around his thighs.

When she was in fourth grade and was given her first explanation of "where do babies come from," she didn't quite get the concept of arousal and penetration; based on topography, she assumed that penis lay along the length of vulva, like hot dog in bun.

And right now, that's what CJ wanted to feel, that is what the aching and pulsing between her legs hungered for, demanded. She sensed his hardness through the soft fleece but couldn't feel it pressing against her. The extreme tightness of her jeans caused the fabric to be stretched taut, about one frustrating half-inch of air between denim and her crotch.

She continued to push and squirm against him, but it was no use. The soft, almost inaudible curse that came from Paul's lips told her that he felt the same frustration.

Paul moved back slightly and eased her down the wall. He pulled her against his chest, moved his hands under the sweatshirt, keeping his left hand on her back but bringing the right to the front to caress, cup, and contain an unfettered breast. Finally, he withdrew both hands and placed them around her waist and kissed her mouth very gently.

"Another argument against tight jeans," he whispered into her hair. "Now let me get you back to the dorm before I - ". Leaving the sentence unfinished, Paul put another kiss on her mouth, one on her nose, one on her forehead and one last one on her mouth. Maybe Larry's getting sick was a good thing, he told himself. He was beginning to realize exactly how much CJ meant to him, exactly what he wanted for and from her.

**Week Four – Sunday – 12:30 PM**

"CJ, Paul's here."

"Thanks, Tammy. Please tell him I'll be about five minutes."

Actually, CJ was ready, but she needed a few minutes to calm herself, compose herself. Paul didn't know it, but today was going to be a very special day for him, not to mention for her.

Since Sunday night, CJ had thought a great deal about her increasingly physical relationship with Paul.

Her mother was long gone to God and CJ could not manage to develop a rapport with any of her stepmothers. However, she did have two older brothers and each of them had given her a sister-in-law with whom she had developed very close relationships. Over the last three years, she had received excellent advice from two different points of view.

"Are you glad that Randy was the only guy for you? Is it important?"

Gina laughed as she switched little Adam from her right side to her left. "Am I glad? Yes. Was it important? I don't know, CJ. I was lucky; the first guy with whom I felt it was right turned out to be the only guy for me. But if things had been different, if what Randy and I have turned out not to be deep and abiding love, or if there had been someone else before I met your brother, I know that things would have been okay for me when I did meet that special guy, or when I did meet Randy. Unless you're going to decide to wait until your wedding night, you have to trust your feelings. And, CJ, I think you have good judgment. When it's right, you'll know."

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask, CJ." Allison handed her sister-in-law a glass of white wine. "I slept with four others before I met your brother. The first guy, in high school, we thought we were in love. And I was his first; I wasn't the only virgin in the back of that car. The second was also special. Numbers three and four, not so much. That's what I regret. Not that I had sex before I met your brother but that I had sex with two guys that really didn't mean anything to me. Whatever you do, do it because it's right for you, because the guy is right for you. And, yes, I have to admit that maybe there is a teeny-tiny part of me that wishes I had waited for Mitch, but then, there's a part of me that wishes I had continued ballet lessons. You can't spend the rest of your life reimagining past alternate universes. And Mitch didn't wait for me."

Over the past three years, Mitch and Randy had also given her a male perspective.

"It didn't matter one damn bit, CJ. I may not have been the first man to take Allison to bed, but I'm the one she chose to be the last. And if you find yourself in a similar situation in the future, if the guy can't react that same way I did, then he's not worthy of you."

"How did I feel? I felt honored, I felt blessed. But I made sure that Gina knew that although I valued what she was giving me, it would not have changed my love for her by an iota if I had not been the first."

CJ knew that the time was right and the guy was right. Over the past ten weeks, she had come to realize that accepting Paul's offer of coffee that day in the bookstore line, and the invitation to a frat house dance later that night, was one of the best decisions of her life. She also knew for certain that the one she had made about today was also in that rarified league.

She had risen early this morning to prepare. She had shaved her legs carefully, all the way up. In the shower, she washed extra carefully between her legs, running the washcloth like a thick piece of dental floss through the separation between her buttocks. When she shampooed and conditioned her tresses, she did the same with her pubic hair. She even trimmed the sides, the line across the top, and cut off a few stragglers with her manicure scissors. She painted her finger and toe nails with a pale shade that matched the lacy bra and matching panties she had bought three weeks ago.

Then CJ lay back in bed and reviewed in her head the pages and illustrations she had skimmed in the book she looked over in the non-textbook section of the bookstore earlier this week. ("I've got an errand to do," she told Paul, explaining why she couldn't meet him for coffee on Wednesday.) This afternoon would be her first time, but she didn't want to seem like a total idiot.

Thirty minutes ago, she put on her sexy lingerie and scented herself. In addition to her wrists and her neck, she applied the perfume behind her kneecaps, in the valley between her breasts, put a dab right above her pubic bone, and two dabs apiece on her inner upper thighs. Her sweater and matching slacks were nicer than what she usually wore for their Sunday afternoon study dates, but not super dressy. She was dressed like some of the sorority types dressed during Rush Week.

One last time, she sat on the edge of her desk, opened her legs, and pressed her fist hard into her crotch. The fabric of her slacks was loose enough that a repetition of last Sunday's events would have a much more satisfying result.

CJ picked up her books and walked out of the door. The next time I'm in this room, she told herself, I'll be a woman.

**Mid-afternoon.**

"Would you like something to drink?" Paul asked CJ as he got up from the table.

CJ waited until he had opened the refrigerator to make her move. She stood up, walked behind him, and touched Paul's shoulder. When he turned around, she put her arms around him and initiated the kiss.

Paul shut the refrigerator door with his back; he returned and deepened the kiss. Within a matter of seconds, his hand was gently massaging her breast. She parted her legs and grasped his right thigh between them. At the same time, she reached for the edge of his T-shirt and slipped her hand underneath it.

"Baby," Paul told her in a ragged voice, "if you do that, I may not want to stop."

"And I don't want you to stop. I'm ready," CJ pulled away to look into his eyes. "I'm ready to be with you."

Paul suddenly went very still. He held her close to him, but not tightly against his body. He struggled to control his emotions and desires, to bend them to his will.

A gentle kiss was placed on her mouth and then Paul pulled back to look into CJ's eyes.

"Friday."

For a second, CJ looked at him with puzzlement. Then she told him that she was thinking clearly, that she knew her own mind, that she was not going to change it in five days.

When Paul pointed out that she was most likely ovulating right now, she blushed at the realization that he was aware of her bodily cycles. When he pointed out that they needed to have some form of birth control, she realized that he was thinking more clearly than she.

"And the place is a mess. Larry could come back at any moment, may have friends with him. I want this to be special for you, for us. Friday. Plan to spend the weekend with me."

As she listened to his voice growing deeper with passion, she realized that she had made the right decision about this man.

So she smiled at him, kissed him back, and told him, "You're the boss."

Paul laughed and said that someday, she might regret that statement, kissed her again, and then said that they really had to get back to studying.

But two hours later, they were again standing in the kitchen, kissing each other. Paul's hands crept under her sweater, unfastened her bra, and caressed her. When her hands once again reached under his shirt, he sighed at the touch and let her hands move up and down his back three times.

Then CJ found herself being rotated 180 degrees and pulled back against Paul. His hands encircled each breast as he kissed her shoulder. His left arm came across her shoulders as his right hand moved down her stomach and under her slacks but over her underwear. As his fingers lightly cupped her damp warmth, giving her a promise of what was to come, a hoarse voice pushed warm breath against her neck.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to be so good to you, so good for you. And you are going to be so good for me. By this time next week, CJ, you and I will be so happy. And it will be all the sweeter for the waiting, to make it right."

**Present Day**

"Oh. Okay."

Papa had explained that Rick and Ron weren't talking about baseball; they were talking about something else that used the terms first base, second base, third base, and home plate to mean something else.

It had to do with good touches and bad touches.

Remember how Mama and he had told Paddy that a bad touch was a bad touch when someone tried to touch him in a private place while he was still a little boy or when Paddy didn't want that person to touch him in that place after he was bigger?

Remember that Mama and Papa also told him that when he was older, he might want someone that he really liked to touch him in one of those places, and then when two older kids (like almost grownups) or grownups wanted to touch each other like that, it was okay, as long as both of them wanted it and as long as they did it in private? ("Yes, Mama and I like to touch each other like that and that's why you have to knock and get permission before coming into our room.") In that case, it wasn't a bad touch, it was a "special touch."

Well, those special touches were sorted into groups. Some big people were only okay with one type of special touch and that was called first base. Another group of touches was called second base, and a third group was third base. Then, there were the most special of special touches. They were called home plate.

Apparently, Rick had a special friend, a girl, who wanted to stay with the special touches that made up second base, so Rick had to respect that. ("Remember that for when you get older. A gentleman never makes a girl do anything she doesn't want to do.")

Paddy wasn't sure he completely understood. Maybe he could ask Derrick more about it tonight in their room. But that might be going behind Papa's back and Derrick probably wouldn't want to do that. And Paddy had learned that sometimes, it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. Speaking of sleeping dogs, he remembered the other reason why he had come into the kitchen.

"Mama, Jasmine threw up on my bed!"

As CJ and Paddy left the room, Derrick picked up his beer.

"I guess in about eight or nine years, I'll be giving him pointers on getting the girl to move beyond second base. Not that I've been that much of an expert lately," Derrick said a bit ruefully.

Paul glanced over at his older son, but quickly decided that Derrick did not want to pursue his last statement, at least not just yet. Derrick would be here until next Sunday. Maybe he would want to talk before Natasha came up for the gala dinner and ball at the end of the week.

Then, thinking back again at the memories Paddy's question had evoked, he smiled once more.

"I don't know. In its own way, second base can be very nice."


End file.
